After I got in, I watched him as he rounded the front bumper, his face shrouded in darkness. I wasn’t sure who this Nick was, the one who looked after me and helped me into the car and took a second to make sure I was all right.

Maybe this was more of the real Nick, a combination of the old him and the present-day him, who was a genetically altered badass.

Whoever he was, I liked him. And I hoped he stuck around.

It took us another half hour of driving before we reached Molly’s bar. The clock in the dash said it was 7:45 when we parked in the lot.

Molly’s was a two-story building on the edge of town. Music pumped through the thin redwood walls, and people were huddled together outside smoking cigarettes. An orange neon sign hung in the front window promising cold beer on tap.

“Let me lead,” Nick said after he’d parked. “You think you’ll recognize your uncle when you see him?”

“Yeah. There were pictures of him in the files.”

“When you spot him, tell me before we approach. Got it?”

“Yes.”

We climbed out, and I tightened my coat as we hurried across the parking lot.

As soon as Nick pulled open the front door, the smell of sweat and stale beer wafted out past us. Music thumped through the floor. The place was packed.

Nick guided me to a round table in the corner, where we were partially hidden by a support column.

I scanned the crowd. There was a big group of people in the opposite corner from us. A large man in denim overalls held on to an unlit cigarette as if the nicotine could be consumed through osmosis. A petite dark-haired girl guffawed at something her friend said.

Farther back, a couple made out in a booth. A cluster of girls slung back shots. An old man drained the last of his beer. And a lean, red-haired man—

“That’s him,” I whispered, leaning closer to Nick. “Back of the room. One o’clock.”

I tried to act inconspicuous, but this man—Uncle Will—was the only living family member I had who might remember the details from the night I’d been taken by the Branch.

He looked similar to the man in the picture from my files. Red hair, cut short; freckles peppering his nose; wide-set eyes; and full lips, like Dani. I could see a lot of her in him, and it made me wonder what our dad looked like and what part of the family genes I’d inherited. I didn’t have the red hair. I didn’t have the same plump lips. I did have the freckles, but that seemed like the only thing I’d been given from the O’Brien side. Was I more like my mother? Did she have blond hair and hazel eyes and a nose that seemed too small for her face?

There was a man sitting next to Will, a beer in his hand. There was no drink in front of my uncle. He smiled at something his friend said.

I stood up.

Nick took my hand. “Wait.”

“I’ve been waiting to meet my real family ever since I found out about them.” I yanked my hand back. “I’m not waiting another minute longer.”

The music changed from a quick rock song to bluegrass, and the crowd livened up as the room filled with the sharp twang of a banjo.

I crossed the room. My hands grew slick with sweat. I wasn’t sure what my expectations were, but I knew more than anything that I wanted Uncle Will to like me.

He laughed again. His friend patted him on the back. Will looked up and spotted me. He paused.

Did he recognize me? Did I look like my real mother or father?

Will stood. His friend asked him something, but he didn’t answer.

I stopped three feet from the table, hands hanging loosely by my sides. Now that I was here, I didn’t know what to say or where to start.

“Anna,” he said with a smile. “It’s good to see you.”

“Uncle Will?”

He nodded and came out from behind the table, wrapping his arms around me, squeezing tightly.

When he pulled back, he said to his friend, “Nathan, I’ll call you later. I gotta go.”

“Sure thing, buddy.” Nathan grabbed his beer and sauntered off.

Hands still on my shoulders, Will stared at me for the longest time, as if he couldn’t believe I was real. Nick edged closer.

Finally Will said, “We need to talk. Somewhere quieter, perhaps?” He looked over my shoulder at Nick. “He a friend of yours?”

I could feel Nick hovering just a foot or so away. I was both thankful and annoyed. “Yeah. A good friend.”

“All right. Well, he can come, too. Follow me.” Will set a hand between my shoulder blades and guided me out the front door. He gestured to a small pickup truck parked in the back of the lot. “That’s my car. Did you want to ride with me or…” He trailed off, eyeing Nick.

“We’ll follow you,” Nick answered.

“All right. My place is over on Washington. We can talk there.” He fidgeted with his keys and they clattered together. “So I guess I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

I nodded. “Sure.”

In our car, Nick turned to me. “I don’t like this.”

I rolled my eyes. “You don’t like anything. Or anyone.”

“Yeah, well, I especially don’t like this.”

“I’m not backing out now. Will could know something. And even if he doesn’t, he’s my uncle. I want to at least talk to him.” My voice cracked, and I inhaled deeply. “Please, Nick?”

He turned on the engine and followed Will out of the parking lot. “If we get shot at tonight, I’m blaming you.”

Uncle Will lived in a second-floor apartment across from the public library. Sam often told me that if it seemed safe, it probably wasn’t, and there was nothing more innocent than a public library. So while every part of me said to relax, I kept my guard up, just in case.

The apartment was small, with one bedroom in the back, and a kitchenette connected to the living space. There was a couch in the living room, worn on the left side, as if Uncle Will spent most of his time in that one spot watching the old TV propped up on a rickety table.

There were dishes in the strainer but none in the sink. The small two-seater table was bare and freshly polished. It smelled like Pine-Sol in here. And cigar smoke.

“Have a seat,” Will said.

I took the right side of the couch, and Nick sat on the arm next to me. I didn’t have to look at him to know he was tense, ready to go off on a moment’s notice.

Will pulled up a chair from the table in the kitchen. “I don’t even know what to say.” He laughed, but it turned into a drawn-out sigh. “You look so grown-up.” He rubbed his hands together. “So, tell me, what did you want to talk about?”

“A few things, I guess. First, Dani said you had contacts in the Branch?”

“I do.”

I threaded my hands together and tucked them into my lap. “Well, two nights ago, we found Dani in a Branch lab, along with three other boys.”

“Others like Sam?” Will asked, his tone guarded.

“Yes, but… something was different.” I explained what had happened to Greg when we’d tried saying our good-byes.

Will digested the information and crossed one leg over the other knee. “Interesting. I’ve heard talk about the Branch looking into new programming. You think they were somehow activated?”

“Yes. But we’re not sure how.”

“Could be a code word.”

Nick cracked a knuckle. “What are the chances that one of us would have said the right word at the right time?”

Will shrugged. “If it was a common word…”

“Do you think there’s a way to reverse it?” I asked.

“Sure. There usually is, but I wouldn’t know how. Or even where to begin.”

I sighed. I was afraid of that.

“One other thing,” I said.

“Sure. Anything.”

“Dani said you were there the night my parents died.”

Will bowed his head, the fan of his lashes meeting the freckles on his cheeks as he squeezed his eyes shut. “I was,” he said quietly.

I sensed Nick watching me.

“What happened that night?”

Will looked up. Back rigid. Hands tightened into fists. “Sam happened. He killed your parents. Took you away.”

All the air in my lungs rushed out in one long gasp.

“That can’t be right,” I said.

Will uncrossed his legs. “I was there, Anna. I saw it happen.”

My stomach seesawed.

Sam killed my parents?

“But… why?” I breathed.

Will lifted a shoulder. “It was my understanding that your parents were trying to keep Dani from him. They knew he’d gotten himself into some trouble with the Branch and if he took Dani with him, there was a good chance she’d be killed, too. I showed up just minutes before Sam pulled a gun. I tried to stop him, but he was too strong.” Tears welled in Will’s eyes as he looked up at me. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop him.”

I had the sudden urge to puke.

Sam had killed my parents.

And he was with Dani right now.

Another thought occurred to me. “Were the others there? Nick or Cas?”

Will glanced at Nick. “No.”

Relief, though minuscule and not at all comforting, flooded through me. “And what about me? Where was I?”

“You were hiding in your room.”

“You have any proof that Sam did it?” Nick asked.

Will spread out his hands. “Nothing on me. I had heard from one of my old contacts that the events of that night were detailed in Sam’s Branch files. I haven’t seen them, though.”

Trev had given us all the files and information he could find about us back when we escaped from Branch headquarters. I had only skimmed through Sam’s files. It was possible I hadn’t found the appropriate one yet.

Had Sam read that file and not told us? Did he remember?

The piece of paper I’d found in his bedside table, right before we left the cabin. The note with all of the names written in Sam’s handwriting.

My parents had been on that list.

Was it possible he was documenting the names of the people he’d killed as he remembered them?

If that was true, he’d known about my parents for a while now.

I leapt to my feet. “I have to go.”

Nick stood behind me. Will stood, too. “Anna. Wait,” Will said. “Please don’t rush out of here like this. I’ve only just found you again. Stay here. You and Nick both. You can have a home-cooked meal and a good night’s sleep.”

“We’re not staying here,” Nick said.

Will took a step toward me. “At least tell me where you’re going. Or give me your number. I don’t want to lose you a second time.” Tears again, clouding his eyes. “You and Dani are all I have left of my brother.”

Nick slipped between Will and me. “Give us your number, and we’ll call you.”

Will pursed his lips but nodded. He tore off a piece of the newspaper sitting on the end table and scribbled down a number on the margin. “That’s my cell. I’ll be sure to keep it on.”

I folded the paper and slid it into my pocket. “Thank you.”

He nodded and walked us to the door. “Be careful around Sam,” he said as I stepped through the doorway. “I don’t know if you’re in touch with him or what. But he’s dangerous and reckless and stronger than any normal man should be.”

I knew that. I knew how strong Sam was. It was one of the things I loved about him.

But now, instead of it being an asset, it was something to fear.

22

AS SOON AS WE WERE ON THE ROAD again, I told Nick about the list I’d found in Sam’s bedside table.

“You have it on you?” Nick asked.

I did. I’d folded it into a tiny square and tucked it into a pair of socks in my bag. I retrieved it, and Nick pulled off the road to read.